


Of flowers and fires

by eveningchocolate



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Hange Zoë, Hurt No Comfort, don't read if you haven't read the manga, spoilers for 126 and 132
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27370312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveningchocolate/pseuds/eveningchocolate
Summary: Final Levihan moments with just a little flower power.
Relationships: Levi & Hange Zoë, Levi/Hange Zoë
Comments: 7
Kudos: 60





	Of flowers and fires

**Author's Note:**

> you might want to turn back if you haven't caught up with the manga

Levi was not a flower person, but Petra was, and had shown him all sorts of flowers. His personal favourite was the hydrangeas, those lovely buds of watercolour. Pink hydrangeas were for love, blue for regret, purple to understand, she had told him. He had planned to bring Hange to town to see the pink hydrangeas for her birthday. After all, Hange’s obsession with biology extended outside titans, and hopefully she would get the hint. To his chagrin, however, she knew nothing of flower meanings, and had instead spent most of the afternoon discussing the rather unromantic science of stamens and pistils and botany. “Do you think plants feel pleasure when pollinated? What do you think? Hmm?” she ventured, arms splayed across the grass. He scoffed- it was a dumb but intriguing question. And there was that playful grin as she rolled around to jab him, making something in him melt. At the foot of the hill the sea of pink bobbed in the wind, rocking gently to a subterranean lullaby. Levi imagined doing something romantic, like drawing his four-eyed freak closer to him. But even that seemed so difficult with Hange rolling everywhere. At last, he grew the balls to hook her towards him. But just as he was about to, her stomach rumbled. 

“I’m hungry,” she remarked, “Can we go for lunch? Sandwiches, maybe? Or Mary’s Lamb Hut?” 

“It’s your birthday, four-eyes. I’m fine with anything,” he replied. She chose sandwiches. Strolling alongside him, Hange started another of her rambles. “...And so, I think hydrangea poison would be great against titans!” Then she added, softly, “Thanks for bringing me to see the hydrangeas today, Levi. They were really pretty!” Something curiously similar to pride burst open before being tainted with the regret of not being to express his feelings. His hand was so, so close to hers.

He wondered how distance could feel so intimate yet so remote. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He awoke to the crackling fire on wood and in his lungs, his muscles mechanically tensing. Where was he? Had Zeke captured him? His vision blurred with injury and dreams, he took in his surroundings, only relaxing when he saw a familiar silhouette. Letting his eyes drift shut again, he heard murmurs against the pounding of wood. Something about Zeke, about Armin or Pixis, about staying... 

Staying together…

_Maybe we should just live here together._

Drowsiness stirred into her words and diluted them. He drifted between continents of consciousness and unconsciousness along the hiss of the campfire.  
Then the pounding stopped, and there came shuffling towards him. Pain picked up a dull tempo without a melody. Was it his injuries, or something else? Hange had… never been like this. He thought of her lighthearted smile, of starry eyes, of memories so ancient they remained within the destroyed walls. Before the weight of being a commander fell onto a guileless scientist’s shoulders, before the poor girl collapsed from within. And if this was the price of freedom, he’d reject it all because… she was his freedom.  
He recoiled a bit at how stupidly corny it sounded. How Hange would tease him if she knew what he was thinking! Who knew that the fearless, infallible Levi was just another shitty hopeless romantic?

His remaining fingers fumbled about for her calloused ones. There was the familiar warmth and scent he was so used to breathing in- he never knew he needed her _that_ much- and the prospect of losing her suddenly became so frightening in the firelight. Her face had grown so haggard ever since Erwin’s death, unsaid worry shimmering in those brown eyes under the raw tangerine glow. He gave her hand a little squeeze.  
He... couldn’t feel a pulse. 

“You’re stressed.” The shake in his voice made it into more of a question then a statement.

And she laughed- a bitter, hollow laugh that horrified him. The tremble inside became even more profound. Without knowing, the cold air- or was it tears?- stung his eyes. “No shit, Levi. Erwin was a great leader. A great gambler, too. How- how am I supposed to lead without him?” Her tone was desperate, begging. Dead passions stronger than the flickering campfire haunted those tired eyes of hers. He wanted to apologise, say _I’m sorry_ for everything that wasn’t even his fault, but the words caught in his dry throat. This… This wasn’t Levi Ackerman. He was supposed to motivate her, to give her a slap in the face and ask her to step on it, but he didn’t. He _couldn’t_. Everything was going wrong. Zeke had escaped him… again, and his promise to Erwin had been broken once more. The resolve to motivate was left in the embers of the forgotten campfire. 

“It’s just that… things weren’t supposed to be like this. There’s Marley, and our friends turning against us and… and-” Her voice cracked, and he watched something bead at the corner of her eye before her glasses fogged up. Even when breathing itself had become a burden, he brought his free hand up to her face. With his thumb he wiped the tears from her eye in long, tender strokes. 

“ _Hange_.”

No more shit glasses. No more four-eyes. Just Hange. 

_I know it’s tough, but we have to move on_. His eyes said everything he couldn’t. “Sorry. That was unbecoming of me.” Her tone was unusually clipped, her balled fists dangling awkwardly at her sides. His chest twisted tighter. She was never like this. 

Unable to face her, his gaze drifted away from her face to rest on a shrub of purple hydrangeas just visible in the dying light. “Hey, four-eyes,” he remarked, eager to change the subject, “Remember the hydrangeas we visited for your birthday? There are purple ones over there-” He stopped when he realised she wasn’t even there anymore, her vacant eyes staring absently in the opposite direction. Petra’s words flashed through his mind. Pink to love, blue to regret, purple to understand.  
He wanted, no, needed, to know what she was feeling now, to know what gave her that weariness which made living hell. He realised he was still holding her hand, and wondered yet again what made intimacy so distant. 

_Hey, four-eyes, did you notice the flowers?_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

As with the rest, Levi had been listening to Yelena, but his gaze was trained on Hange. There was talk about Fort Slava for Eren’s next attack, and he watched the husk of a body tense up as she touched on the sensitive topic. “Zeke was defeated… but he was right. His euthanisation plan was the only way to stop the two thousand year-old Eldian problem. Isn’t that obvious from the wretched state of things now?” The damned traitor probed.

He had seen the warning signs long enough to recognise them. The downward turn of the lips, the knitted eyebrows, the hunched shoulders facing away, hiding from _something_.

“Sure. I’ll admit it. That Eren had no solutions. No hope. No future for us. And that I’m… powerless.” So detached, it sounded almost natural, as if this was the Hange that was meant to be. Flinching, he got up and limped towards the door, noticing the way Pieck and Armin both directed their gaze downwards. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Levi froze. He wasn’t sure, but he had picked up something about a 15th commander. 

“Armin, the quality required of a survey corps commander… is the unyielding desire for understanding.”

He would have laughed in a very different situation. Had Hange understood the meaning of the pink hydrangeas, or the purple ones? What a hateful commander. His throat tightened with the pain of hydrangeas and Hanges and goodbyes. 

“Hey, shit-four-eyes.” Then came back the pitter-patter of old times, when Paradis was more or less harmonious, when Erwin was still alive, when Hange was still Hange.  
“You understand, don’t you? It’s...my turn. I want to look as cool as I possibly can right now.” 

Quietly- _So just let me go, will you?_

Shimmering tears welled in her eyes, and he was instantly reminded of their time in the forest. Funny how when the light finally entered her eyes, it was because of the darkness within.  
He understood. Death had always been the easier option. It had been with Erwin, and now her. _What happens to me then, fucking four-eyes?_  
But, like it or not, it was an obligation. So he clenched his hand and put it at her chest. He felt… her throbbing pulse.  
Then came the three words that weren’t _I love you_.  
“Dedicate… your heart.”  
Her laugh was finally clearer, louder, with the beating of her heart. It was the Hange he had always loved and hated. He looked at her face one last time, memorising every feature, noting how with that laugh, she had become ever beautiful, ever youthful, ever _Hange_. And that brought a little comfort, just a little, to his aching chest. 

_“I wonder what kind of titan I’ll meet today. If only I was lucky to run into an abnormal!” She clasped her hands, exclaiming.  
“There’s one nearby.”  
“Huh? Where?” She sounded so gullible, so believing. It was cute. He grabbed her hair to get her to face him.  
“Right here.”_

He watched as she felled one, two, three titans. _Titans really are… incredible_ , he had heard her say. He couldn’t help but agree. She was his titan, _his abnormal,_ and she was beyond incredible. Watching her fight such a one-sided battle was painful, and he could feel his nose pinch. But she was going to rest, going to join Erwin and Nifa and Petra and the others. His knuckles whitened as his fists tightened- _dammit, Hange, why was I so attached to you_ \- 

Then it was all over. 

He suppressed the urge to scream as she started slowing down, her body burnt out like the campfire that night in the forest.  
But even embers were beautiful.  
_Sure. I’ll admit it. That Eren had no solutions. No hope. No future for us. And that I’m… powerless._  
_Powerless._  
Was that why she sacrificed herself?  
_Powerless._  
Was that why she abandoned him?  
_Powerless._  
Was that all campfires burned on? Was everything really so cold and aloof, that even love couldn’t keep hearts blazing?  
He bit on his trembling lip. _No. Not like this._ But it came anyway. A tear slipped out, falling quietly with Hange, falling, _falling-_

 _Falling into the hydrangea field. “Let’s go again next year!” she piped, arms spread across the grass. Her windblown hair whipped her face as she turned to face Levi, her grin inches away from his. It was endearing seeing her having so much fun- how could he have resisted the urge to smile?  
“Woah. Is this Levi smiling? I can’t believe it!” She gasped in exaggerated surprise. That erased the small beam off his face completely.  
“What? Is it wrong for me to smile? You look like you’ve seen a damn ghost.” Hange’s smirk widened at his reply, and the poking session continued. Next year. He would come with her again next year, and next time, he would carry a bouquet of hydrangeas. Pink hydrangeas, at that. He’d bring the pinkest hydrangeas and confess to her._  
There was no next year. That same year, Erwin died with the bubbly Hange. How he wished he had brought Hange to the hydrangeas more, even if it was just once. Damn the embarrassment and the nerves. How he wished he had asked, had begged her to go before trivialities and feelings lost importance, before ‘when’s shifted more towards ‘if’s.  
He liked her. He loved her.

 _Pink to love, blue to regret, purple to understand_. He wished for the bluest hydrangeas.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fuck. 

It had been erected nowhere near flowers, but pink hydrangeas were growing at Hange’s gravestone. And only in that spot.  
He was still in denial. Perhaps someone had planted it there. But who in the right mind would start their gardening career in a fucking graveyard, and only around one grave?  
Unless… it was Hange. And Hange was never in the right mind.  
So Hange had loved, too? But who, and why, and how-

_Maybe we should just live here together._

Hadn’t that just been a passing remark? Unless- no, _no, no no no._  
He stared into the distance, lips parted, tears gathering in his eyes. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, fuck it all. He had been too fucking oblivious.  
He realised too late that yes, even if it was a terrible confession, it was still a confession, and one which was uniquely Hange’s. Oh sweet, sweet Hange, why was she so merciless and harsh now? 

So he stood at a gravestone the colour of his eyes, the blue hydrangeas in hand, stupefied for a minute, the disbelief still fresh in his mind.  
Then the dam finally broke. His hands flying to the sides of his head, he cried into the sky, screaming, shouting, losing all his sanity for a girl who never had any. With bloodshot eyes wide and mad, he kneeled at her gravestone. 

“ _Why_?” The tone was resigned, vulnerable. He was tired of chasing missed opportunities. Eren had just been defeated. Paradis was at peace. Hange did what needed to be done.  
But why- _why did it have to be her? What would’ve been different if they had stayed in the forest that day? What if they had kept that campfire burning?_

Silvery in the moonlight, tears skated down a shirt stained with the blood of fallen comrades. In the prancing shadows, a boy wept for the girl with hair as brown (and as dirty) as the soil he had grown his roots into, for the girl with a smile as vibrant as a thousand hydrangeas.

_So you had noticed the flowers, huh._

**Author's Note:**

> Why are we still here? Just to suffer?
> 
> hihi if you've gotten this far thank you for reading through this diarrhea (I still can't remember how to spell diarrhea I had to search the internet :(( )  
> hope you've enjoyed it (and don't mind the last part I was a bit high on the f-bombs) i am still sulking over 132 :((  
> Levihan is such an outstanding ship though. Like i just showed my friend ep9 of aot with the FABULOUS HAIR GRAB and she told me that it was a good ship woohoo!!  
> I'm so hyped for 134 though I hope Hange revives :P  
> Rest in piece commander ;A;  
> Criticism much appreciated!!


End file.
